


State of Play

by glitterbb



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Politics, Daddy Issues, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Smut, M/M, Political Campaigns, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7869484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterbb/pseuds/glitterbb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the son of the town Mayor, Connor Walsh is used to keeping his head down and keeping himself to himself. Everything changes when he meets a volunteer for his father's election campaign</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The flashes were blinding in Connor’s eyes but he stared ahead, smile plastered on his face, same as he’d always done.

“Mr. Walsh, over here!” A voice shouted from the crowd. “Let’s have you looking a bit more like a family!” Connor gritted his teeth as his father slid an arm around his neck and placed a strong hand on his left shoulder. The flashbulbs intensified as photographers jostled for position in front of them, all looking for that perfect shot. 

“Okay guys, thank you very much!” His father’s voice boomed, and Connor felt himself relax as the gathered crowd of photographers began to disperse across the room. People immediately surrounded his father leading him off across the room to his next duty.

“And now we can go back to being forgotten about…” Gemma drawled, sidling up beside him, his mother already deep in conversation with someone important looking. Everyone looked important here and all Connor wanted was to get as far away as possible. Connor pulled his phone from his pocket and flicked to Humpr. Gemma tutted, ripping the phone from his hand. “Seriously Connor. Dad would flip if he found out you were doing that here.” She sighed. Connor grabbed the phone back from her grasp, smiling sweetly.

“Does it look like he’s going to notice?” He grinned, nodding over to his father chatting animatedly to a gathered group of journalists. “What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”

Being the son of the Mayor of Grand Rapids had had its ups and downs over the years. Connor had learnt early on that his father’s duty came first and foremost. Before family, before friends, and most importantly before any kind of relationship. His dad had tried to be there, Connor could see that, but every missed birthday or school event had left its mark.

Growing up with their family under a microscope had been tough, every movement dissected and analysed intensely by media and opponents. Everyone waiting for someone to trip up and give them a front page splash or a weak spot to exploit. With years of practice, Connor had mastered the art of subtlety, able to juggle a wholesome public image with the slightly less wholesome activities of his private life with relative ease.

“Buy me a drink.” Connor whined, pleading with Gemma as they crossed the room. “These things are impossible to survive without something to take the edge off.” He groaned. Campaign season was the worst. Pulled from pillar to post with not an ounce of privacy. Paraded in front of crowds of excitable enthusiastic supporters, the picture of a perfect all American family, even if it couldn’t be any further from the truth. Gemma chuckled.

“Three more years.” She winked, patting him patronisingly on the head. “You’ll be 21 before you know it, and then you can drink to forget these things as much as the rest of us.” She grinned, swiping a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter.She looked around the room, eyes locking on her mother deep in conversation with a young looking man in an expensive looking suit. James Foreman, the very cute and very single son of their father’s largest campaign donor. Gemma fumbled in her purse quickly, pulling out a compact and checking her reflection, before turning to Connor. “How do I look?” She hissed, pushing her lips into an exaggerated pout.

“Shameless?” Connor tutted with a sad shake of his head. “I didn’t think trust fund babies were your type?” Gemma rolled her eyes, stuffing the compact away.

“That one is.” She mumbled coyly. “Don’t wait up!” She teased, sauntering across the room to effortlessly cut in to the conversation. Connor stared after his sister, feeling a begrudging respect for her. Gemma knew what she wanted and she regularly got it. She took after their father in that way. Never afraid to try and never afraid to fail. Connor tried so hard to follow her lead, but the confidence had never come quite as easily to him. Every act followed by intense worrying and anxiety. Connor definitely took after his mother in that respect.

“Here, you’re not missing out on much though.” Connor turned to find the owner of the mystery voice. Tall, cute, dark eyes framed by thick rimmed spectacles. He smiled awkwardly as he held out a champagne flute, waiting for Connor to respond.

“Do you make a habit of trying to get underage guys drunk?” Connor purred, narrowing his eyes, cautiously taking the glass and sipping from it. The stranger was right. The champagne was cheap, the acidic taste burning his throat. No expense spent. The man pushed his glasses up his nose, letting out a low chuckle, a blush creeping over his cheeks, suddenly unable to look Connor in the eye.

“No.” He shrugged. “But you’re right, it helps take the edge off these things.” He smiled. “No one has to know?” He added, eyes sparkling. A silence descended, both men unashamedly giving the other a once over, eyes running down and back up again, lips curving into matching grins. “I’m Oliver.” The stranger finally offered, holding out a hand. Connor took it and shook it firmly.

“Connor.” He replied coolly. Oliver nodded.

“I know who you are.” He smiled. “I work for the campaign.” He explained, his cheeks still tinged pink. “Well… I volunteer.” He carried on. “Mailing lists, social media, updating websites.” He paused. “None of the cool stuff.” He sighed, the blush deepening. 

“No! No. It’s cool?” Connor offered, not all together that convincingly. “I mean at least you do something helpful?” He tried again. “I just turn up and smile for the cameras. All part of the show.” He sighed, taking another sip from his champagne glass. Oliver chuckled.

“Well you look good doing it?” He smiled, innocently. Connor blinked, not entirely sure if he was being flirted with or if this conversation was descending into an awkward, horrible mess right before his eyes. “I mean…” Oliver shook his head, bringing his hand to his temple as it suddenly dawned on him what he’d just said. “Oh god, this is why I never make the first move.” He whispered under his breath, nervous laughter taking over.

Oliver wrung his hands together, staring at Connor desperately, the desire for the floor to open him up and swallow him evident in his eyes.

“This is so stupid.” He finally chuckled. “I mean, you’re five years younger than me and you’re not even….” He stopped himself. “I’m sorry, you came up as online and nearby and I stupidly…” He took a deep breath, his face nearly beetroot red. “Just….forget this ever happened.” He muttered, backing away, hands held up defensively as his voice quivered. 

“Wait.” Connor called out, stepping forwards and grabbing on to Oliver’s wrist. “What makes you think I have a Humpr profile?” He asked, a smile playing on his lips. Oliver paused, quickly composing himself before pulling his phone from his pocket with a confused frown. He clicked on the screen and scrolled down before presenting the evidence to Connor.

“You mean you’re not ‘8isgr8′?” He smiled with a gentle chuckle. “I mean, you fit his description?” Oliver continued, stepping forwards again. Connor bit gently on his bottom lip, weighing up his options. Easy hookups were one thing when the other guy was completely ignorant to who Connor was, but someone so close to his inner circle. Someone so aware of his true identity seemed risky even for Connor’s tastes. “Relax.” Oliver smiled, the awkwardness seemingly evaporating, replaced by someone much more confident and smooth. “I don’t make a habit of outing guys to their fathers?” He offered. 

Connor couldn’t help but smirk.

“I’m not in the closet.” He whispered. “Not privately at least?” Oliver nodded, understanding immediately. He slid his phone back into his pocket and folded his arms confidently across his chest.

“So what exactly does your username mean?” He asked softly, his voice dropping to a low husk. Connor’s lips curved into a playful smirk, downing the rest of the champagne.

“Well I could show you?”

* * *

The wind knocked out of Connor as Oliver slammed him forcefully into the door of the bathroom, lips tugging roughly on his bottom lip, sucking and nipping as they kissed wildly. Connor’s fingers knotted in Oliver’s hair, pulling their faces closer together.

“You sure about this?” Oliver hissed against his lips, breath heavy and fast already.

“Stop talking and blow me already.” Connor breathed, gripping tightly on the collar of Oliver’s shirt, both men’s lips splitting into matching excitable grins. 

Oliver’s hands fumbled with the zip of Connor’s trousers. The dark material of the expensive new suit crumpled as it fell in a pool around the young man’s ankles. Oliver’s lips pecked along Connor’s jaw, kisses littering down his neck and across his collarbone before Oliver sunk to his knees, looking up through long eyelashes.

His fingers curled into the waistband of Connor’s boxers, the brunette watching as the man he’d met barely thirty minutes earlier yanked them down, wrapping a hand loosely around his already aching cock, a grin playing on his lips. His tongue darted out, flicking quickly against the tip, Connor’s head dropping back against the cold tiled wall with a satisfied groan.

Oliver’s lips parted, pushing over the head of Connor’s cock, sliding slowly down his length, his tongue lapping softly at the underside. Connor let out a sigh as every inch was engulfed in warmth, steadying himself against the wall behind him. Oliver’s hands flattened against Connor’s abdomen, pushing the hem of his dress shirt out of the way.

Connor dropped his hands, knotting them into Oliver’s hair, steadying him in place as his hips bucked, pushing himself further inside the wet confines of the other man’s mouth. Oliver began to bob his head, lips moving back and forth slowly, locking his gaze on Connor, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Fuck. That feels good.” Connor panted, head spinning as every nerve ending tingled with pleasure. Oliver knew what he was doing, his tongue lapping gently with evident skill, coaxing Connor closer and closer to his impending orgasm. Fingers moved in sync with Oliver’s lips, adding to the friction.

Every stroke became faster and more intense, both men aching for a release, pants and moans echoing off the tiled bathroom walls. Connor was certain anyone passing by outside would be able to identify the unmistakable sounds of sex, but he was too far gone to even care. Oliver’s mouth was incredible and he wasn’t about to ask him to stop.

Connor’s breathing quickened, his stomach tightening and his heart racing as Oliver’s fingers found their way lower, massaging gently. Connor wasn’t sure how long exactly they were in the bathroom together for, minutes melting away until Connor finally released inside Oliver’s mouth with a long guttural groan.

Oliver chuckled, licking his lips gently and pulling himself to his feet, Connor’s eyes tracking him the whole way. He cupped the younger man’s chin, pulling him into a soft kiss, the sharp, salty taste still lingering on his tongue.

The room filled with the sounds of laboured breathing, Oliver turned, grabbing a wad of paper, helping Connor to clean up, still no words, just a collection of smiles and looks.

“So, can I see you again?” Oliver finally asked, wiping his hands and flushing the evidence down the toilet. Connor nodded with a small smile, buckling up his trousers, tucking his shirt back into his waistband. 

“I think I can be convinced.” He winked, grabbing his phone from his pocket, the two men exchanging numbers before discreetly parting ways.


	2. Chapter 2

It was nearly two weeks until Connor heard from Oliver again. He’d never been one to fret over hearing again from guys he’d hooked up with, least of all guys he’d met via Humpr, but this felt entirely different.

“You’re pining.” Michaela had teased as he stared blankly at his phone screen day after day waiting for some sort of sign. A message or a call to let him know that Oliver had actually been serious, far too proud to make the first move himself. Connor Walsh didn’t chase people. Connor Walsh most certainly wasn’t desperate, even if the other guy was completely adorable and far too enticing for his own good. When Oliver had finally made contact Connor had found himself torn between anger at being made to wait, and overeager enthusiasm.

He didn’t want to admit that he’d been early for their date. He didn’t even really want to admit it was a date. It was coffee. Coffee between two people who wanted to get to know each other better. A chance to catch up in a neutral setting. No prying eyes or walls with ears. No flashbulbs or journalists, nothing to hide from. 

Connor swirled the straw around in his iced coffee, the ice cubes swilling in the liquid creating a tornado inside the plastic cup. He rocked awkwardly in his chair, bringing the cup to his mouth, chewing anxiously on the end of the straw, not entirely sure what had set him so on edge. The fear of commitment, or the fear of being stood up. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, watching as the secondhand ticked around, seconds turning into minutes. 5pm came and went and still no sign of Oliver. 

Connor had never been one for dating. He was young after all, his whole life to settle down and embrace monogamy. For now though, he was more than content with playing the field. Sex was an escape for him. A diversion from his family life. A distraction from the spotlight. A chance to feel in control of just a small part of his life. Dating was different though. Dating meant sharing things below the surface. Dating meant trusting someone. A commitment, and Connor wasn’t sure he was ready for one of those.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” Oliver’s voice snapped Connor from his daydream. The older man slid into the chair opposite, slightly disheveled. He pulled his laptop bag over his head, pushing it under the table, before sliding his wide rimmed glasses back up his nose. “I told them I needed to finish early, so of course someone decides to lose an entire database ten minutes before I walk out the door.” He huffed. “Sometimes I feel like the only ones who can fix the problems over there.” He muttered to himself. Connor’s lips curled into a smile, Oliver reciprocating as he realised just how he sounded. “Sorry.” He mumbled with a small chuckle. “Are you having the same again?” Oliver asked, nodding to the near empty cup in Connor’s hand. 

“Yeah, iced coffee with milk and a shot of vanilla.” Connor grinned. Oliver nodded, making his way up to the counter. Connor sat back in his chair just watching, something about the way Oliver’s cheeks dimpled as he laughed with the barista was captivating. He was cute, adorable even, everything Connor wasn’t. 

“The girl said she thought you were getting stood up?” Oliver chuckled as he slid back into the chair opposite, pushing a fresh cup towards Connor, clutching his own mug. “She said she was starting to feel sorry for you.” He teased, taking a sip. Connor shook his head. 

“I don’t get stood up.” Connor purred confidently. Oliver nodded. 

“So I gathered. You’re quite the charmer, so I hear?” He grinned, leaning across the table, eyes searching Connor’s for more.

“You’ve been checking up on me?” Connor smirked, twirling the tip of his straw between his fingers. “What sort of information do your databases have on me these days? I’m sure it’s quite a read.” He grinned sardonically. “Well, depending on if you have the sanitised, press friendly version or the genuine facts.” He shrugged. 

“I want to know your version.” Oliver shot back, an expectant smile playing on his lips. “Tell me about you” He asked, leaning back into his chair. 

“I’m 18, Virgo, an insatiable lover and I know how to get what I want?” Connor teased. “Or who I want.” He winked. 

“And what exactly is it that you want?” Oliver countered casually. Connor studied Oliver’s face, noting the genuine interest he was showing. These weren’t simply a collection of questions in order to coax Connor in to bed, Oliver was asking because he genuinely wanted to know the answer. 

“I want to be a lawyer.” Connor smiled, relaxing slightly. “I want to study English and History at Berkeley, then move on to Stanford Law.” He explained confidently. He’d had it planned out since he was 14 and now it was mere months from becoming a reality, nothing was about to change his mind. 

“You set the bar high for yourself.” Oliver chuckled. “You must take after your father?” Connor pouted. 

“I hope not.” He muttered under his breath, looking up at Oliver’s inquisitive stare. For now that was personal. Sharing details about himself was one thing, but sharing things about his family with a near stranger? That was for another day. “What about you? What brings you here?” Connor asked. “I hear you’re a bit of a computer whizz.” He chuckled. 

“Oh, so I’m not the only one who came prepared!” Oliver grinned.

“I did some research!” Connor defended himself with a smile. “I asked a couple of people if they’d heard of you, that’s all.” He explained. 

“And?” Oliver raised an eyebrow, resting his chin on hand, elbow on the table intently. “What exactly did your spies have to say.” Connor took a long sip of his drink, eyes locked with Oliver’s. 

“No one had a bad word to say.” He whispered. “You’re a very popular guy. Hard working, friendly, sweet.” He paused. “You almost sound too good to be true.” He chuckled. “How did you end up working for my dad?”

Oliver fidgeted awkwardly in his seat, mindlessly stirring his coffee.

“I got into politics when I was at College.” He sighed. “I wanted to feel like I was changing the world.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I wasn’t getting as much freelance tech work as I had been so I decided to put my spare time to good use. Give something back. Your dad seemed like a good guy, politically speaking at least.” 

Connor chose not to answer, not that he disagreed. His relationship with his father had always been rocky. He’d been supportive. He’d provided for Connor and all their family. He’d made his mistakes, big mistakes, but Connor knew deep down his father was a good person, caught up in a high pressure, high profile, time consuming job. He loved his dad, and he’d defend him if the need ever arose, but he’d always been bought up to be discreet about his father. Family matters were private.

“So, enlighten me.” Connor smiled, leaning onto the table. “What makes a college graduate like you, interested in a high school senior like me?”

Oliver chuckled, folding his arms across himself. 

“You mean aside from what I saw the other night?”

“There’s more to me than my cock.” Connor pouted, a sparkle in his eyes. He curled his tongue around his straw, pulling it into his mouth, sipping deeply from his cup. 

“Well, you’ll have to show me sometime.” Oliver winked smoothly, bringing his mug to his lips with a chuckle. 

“I plan to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick filler chapter. I've had some new ideas with what to do with this so I may be able to get it updated a bit quicker than I'd planned. Enjoy :)


	3. Chapter 3

The gentle thrum of the background music supported the hubbub of the gathered people around the bar. The sound of pool balls clacking together filled the air as people chatted and laughed as they played on the rows of tables lining the pool hall. Connor shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, watching as Oliver ordered, smiling as the other man made small talk with the assembled bar patrons.

There was something inherently likable about Oliver, his permanently kind aura distracted from the fact that he really wasn’t Connor’s usual type. Connor preferred men with a bench press record higher than their IQ. Men who spent more time studying their own reflection than keeping up to date on local politics, Oliver was distinctly average by comparison, and yet Connor found himself more enamoured with him that he’d been in a long time.

Oliver wandered over, holding out two beer bottles, handing one over to Connor.

“I feel like I keep providing you with alcohol.” Oliver mused, following behind as Connor led them to a table. “For the record, I’m not trying to get you drunk.” He smirked, wrapping his lips around the bottle neck, tipping the bottle back.

“It wouldn’t bother me if you were.” Connor shrugged, shucking his jacket from his shoulders and dropping it down on a nearby stool. “I’m a big boy.” He winked, voice dripping with innuendo.

“So you keep telling me.” Oliver retorted, perching his bottle on a nearby table and setting about racking up balls. “You know I’m hopeless at this game, right?” Oliver chuckled. “My coordination sucks.”

“Well that’ll make two of us.” Connor smiled, holding out a pool cue to the older man. “Relax. It’s just a bit of fun.” He whispered. “If it makes you feel better, you can break.” He offered, slowly picking the rack up from around the balls whilst Oliver lined up the cue ball.

He leant over the table, feeling Connor’s eyes watching him as he tried to line up his shot, fingers trembling slightly against the felt as he drew the cue back.

“I’ll let you fuck me if you win.” Connor’s voice purred in his ear, perfectly timed to coincide with him taking the shot. The ball flew off messily, barely clipping the racked balls. Connor chuckled at just how awful the break was. “Oh dear.” He drawled unsympathetically, stepping up to line up a shot.

Oliver watched as Connor pulled back his cue, effortlessly making a shot, potting the ball in the process. He straightened up, admiring his work.

“Oh, I lied.” He licked his lips confidently. “I’m awesome.” He giggled mischievously, traipsing around the table.

Connor liked to feel in charge, perhaps influenced in part by the lack of control he felt over his own life at times. When it came to his relationships, he always put himself in the driving seat. Oliver was no different, but it always felt like more fun when the other guy joined in the game.

“I’m not going down without a fight.” Oliver retorted, casting his eyes across the table.

“You went down without a fight last time.” Connor teased, feeling somewhat in his element. Oliver shook his head, slowly leaning over the table to take a shot. The cue ball bounced off the cushion, rolling to knock the nearest ball into the pocket. “Beginners luck” Connor hissed, Oliver poking his tongue out playfully, grabbing his beer bottle and taking another swig.

“Let me guess. Daddy has a pool table in the games room back at your family mansion?” Oliver pouted. A smirk crept across the younger man’s lips as he stood back, surveying his options.

“We live in a 4 bedroom house in the suburbs.” Connor grinned, taking another pull from his bottle. “I learnt to play with my school friends.” He explained. “We’d play for money.”

“So you were a proper little hustler?” Oliver teased. “What is school like when your dad’s the mayor?” He asked, leaning on his cue. Connor sighed, leaning over to take his next shot. 

“It’s... interesting.” He shrugged. “You learn to be careful around people for sure.” He explained. 

“I’m sure you were very popular.” Oliver questioned. 

“I was.” Connor mumbled. “But that had nothing to do with who my dad was.” He winked, striking the cue ball and sending a ball cascading into the pocket.

“It must be strange though?” Oliver probed. “Everyone knowing everything about you and your family. Living your life under the microscope.” Connor straightened up, pressing his lips together, a smirk forming. 

“I’ve learnt to be discreet.” He purred. “People know what I want them to know. I know who I can trust and I know when I can cut loose.” He paused. “It’s fine.” He reasoned. “I’m not exactly tabloid fodder.” He winked taking a long pull of his bottle. 

“I don’t know.” Oliver shrugged. “Underage drinking, Humpr profile... some people would find that quite scandalous?”

“And some people need to learn to live a little.” Connor countered, moving close to Oliver “It’s your turn.” He nodded towards the table. 

The game progressed, the conversation flowing easily between the pair as they relaxed into each other’s company, slowly becoming more competitive, driven by the unofficial prize on the table. Connor unable to hide his smugness over the clear edge he seemed to hold over the older man. 

“There’s no shame in losing.” He drawled, stepping up to the table, one ball left in comparison to Oliver’s three. “I mean, even if it does mean you miss out on my ass.” He chuckled. “I’ll be gentle.” He promised. 

“I don’t remember saying you get my ass if you win?” Oliver teased. “And you’re jumping the gun. I can still win.” He chuckled. Connor knitted his eyebrows together, teamed with a sarcastic nod. 

“Your optimism is cute.” He smirked, leaning over the table, lining up the cue to the ball, biding his time. Oliver stood back, unable to stop himself from admiring the view. The curve of Connor’s ass as he leant over the table, the pull of his already tight jeans across the soft flesh, teasing Oliver, showing him what he was missing out on. 

The older man smirked, stepping forwards, crowding against Connor, crotch grazing gently against the younger man’s ass, their bodies pressing together, the hairs on the back of Connor’s neck visibly standing to attention at the unexpected contact. 

“Your ass is cute.” Oliver hummed, voice low and heavy in Connor’s ear, dripping with intent. He thrust his hips forwards, grinding his cock purposefully against the younger man’s ass, timed with perfection to coincide with Connor taking his shot. 

Both men watched as the cue ball flew wildly off course, careering off the cushion and making contact with the eight ball. 

“No, no, no, no...” Connor repeated, watching in abject horror as the black ball rolled slowly towards the corner pocket, teetering momentarily before dropping off the felt and into the oblivion. Game over. 

“And now your ass is mine.” Oliver croaked, unable to hide his gleeful grin. “I told you I could still win.” 

Connor straightened up, jaw clenched, staring at Oliver, eyes laced with amusement, yet a hint of anger lingered. 

“Asshole.” He muttered. “I never had you down as a cheat.” His eyes softened, giving way to a small giggle. He liked this side of Oliver. A darker side to his innocent demeanour.

“And I never had you down as a sore loser.” Oliver countered, draining the last of his beer and grabbing Connor’s jacket from the stool and holding it out to the younger man. “Now, are we done here because I have a prize I’d like to claim sooner rather than later?” He chuckled, nodding towards the door.

* * *

The door to Oliver’s apartment smashed loudly into the wall, Connor barreling into it, Oliver’s lips pushing into him with force, fingers threading through wispy strands of hair, taking charge. He pressed Connor’s jacket from his shoulders, throwing it down and kicking the door shut behind the pair of them as they moved deeper inside.

Connor stumbled backwards, glancing around the small apartment. Artwork adorned the walls, every bookcase and sideboard decorated with various statues and sculptures. Oliver clearly had good taste, and money to boot.

Oliver stared at Connor, hunger in his eyes, lunging forwards, not wanting to be apart for too long, the heat rising at an alarming rate. Oliver pressed his lips roughly against Connor’s, grabbing a fistful of the younger man’s t-shirt, pulling their bodies flush against each other, lips sucking gently on his lower lip, teeth nipping for good measure. 

“I’m still pissed at you for cheating.” Connor muttered, instinctively lifting his arms as Oliver tugged his top over his head.

“Well if it makes you feel better than next time I’ll let you win.” Oliver drawled, a dangerous smile spreading across his lips. “Now stop being a sore loser.” He chuckled, backing Connor towards the large bed standing in the center of the small studio bedroom. 

Connor couldn’t help but analyse his surroundings, looking for anything to give him some more insight into who Oliver was, a family photo or something from his childhood but nothing gave any hints about the other man’s background.

Oliver closed the gap between them again, clambering astride Connor, grinning down victoriously. Connor reached out, curling a hand around Oliver’s neck, bringing their lips together once more, letting out a gentle moan as the older man licked inside his mouth. 

Oliver pawed at Connor’s flies, fumbling to pop the button, breaking their kiss to glance down with frustration, finally freeing the fastening and loosening the other man’s jeans, his hand snaking nimbly inside the waistband of Connor’s boxers, his cock straining against the black jersey material of his Calvin Kleins.

“This isn’t fair,” Connor whined. “You have too many clothes on.” Oliver pulled back with a grin, stripping himself of his shirt and throwing it behind himself with a triumphant pout. 

“Better?” He mumbled, wasting no time in grinding his crotch roughly against Connor’s, skin on skin electrifying their nerve endings as their torsos pressed together, fingertips scrabbling for purchase.

"Still wearing too much.” Connor hissed, fingers searching out the other man’s belt, flicking it open with ease, not wanting to waste anymore time. He wanted Oliver and he wanted him now.

Everything was rushed and messy, both men caught up in a surge of lust as hands roamed with need and urgency, clothing being discarded at a clumsy yet alarming pace.

Connor wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but something about Oliver’s strong, toned physique made his breath catch in his throat and his heart skip a beat. The athletic torso he came face to face with seemed somewhat incongruous to the slightly bookish air that a fully clothed Oliver seemed to exude. 

“Lie on your stomach.” Oliver growled, pushing the younger man back, leaning over him as Connor obeyed eagerly underneath him. He scrabbled blindly in the drawer before producing a condom and small lube bottle, wasting no time in popping the cap and smearing the cold liquid over his fingertips, trailing them tantalisingly down the base of Connor’s spine, nudging between his cheeks and smearing the lube across the younger man’s hole. 

Connor’s hips bucked involuntarily at the sensation, his cock straining uncomfortably against the mattress as Oliver’s finger probed slowly inside causing him to groan at the intrusion, adjusting slowly. Oliver leant in closer, showering kisses across Connor’s shoulder blades, featherlight yet passionate as he slid another finger into the mix.

Connor mewled, his hand darting out and clasping onto the nearest pillow, pulling it under his chin and using it to muffle his own cry. Oliver smiled to himself, gently twisting his fingers loosening the younger man, preparing him slowly. 

“You have the cutest ass.” Oliver chuckled, playfully spanking Connor’s right butt cheek. He leant in close, his voice low and raspy in Connor’s ear. “Looks good enough to eat.” His words lingered in Connor’s ear, kisses trailing softly down his spine, one after another like footprints leaving a path leading down to the cleft of his buttocks. 

Connor stole a glance over his shoulder, Oliver lips twisted into a sly grin as he lowered his head, not breaking eye contact. He pressed his tongue between the younger man’s cheeks, lapping lightly at his hole, causing Connor to groan in ecstasy. 

“Fuck, that feels good.” Connor choked, his voice a strangled cry against the pillow as Oliver’s tongue worked faster, pushing through the tight ring, preparing Connor for what was to come. 

Connor’s head spun as his body tingled with sensations like he’d never felt before, aching for more but desperate to move things on to the next level. This was a new side to Oliver, something completely unexpected, but Connor was loving every second. 

Oliver tugged on Connor’s hips, pulling his ass towards him, coaxing Connor onto his knees before pressing a gentle yet electrifying kiss at the base of his spine. The air filled with the sound of anticipation, heavy breathing followed by the tell tale rip of a condom packet.

“You ready?” Oliver asked gently, moving close, his cock brushing against Connor’s ass, heightening the anticipation as he lined himself up. Connor nodded, biting on his bottom lip to prepare for what was next. 

Oliver pushed his hips forwards gently, moving slowly, Connor unable to help but wince slightly at the intrusion as the older man filled him up inch by inch, by no means a new experience but it had been a while.

“Go slow.” Connor hissed, allowing himself to slowly become accustomed to the sensation once again, every nerve ending coming to life as Oliver’s cock brushed past. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Oliver whispered, his voice soft and gentle, the caring tone seeping through as his right hand caressed Connor’s hip lightly, stroking across the skin, his left splayed across the small of the other man’s back, holding his lover steady until he finally pushed home. He stilled his movements, Connor’s breathing becoming heavier and slightly ragged as he relaxed into the moment, eventually giving a small nod to show he was fine. 

Oliver thrust cautiously, the man beneath him sighing softly in response. His hands moved to clasp Connor’s hips, fingertips digging gently into his milky skin as he continued to thrust at a slow, steady pace. 

"Fuck, you’re so tight.” Oliver rasped, building his speed up, loosing himself in just how incredible the friction felt. The soft slap of skin on skin punctuated every thrust as Connor bit firmly down on the pillow, still clutching it tightly to his chest, completely swept up in the sensation, lost in Oliver. 

“Oh god, it feels so good.” Connor cried out, unable to control the sudden rush of emotions, slightly embarrassed but too caught up in the moment to care. Everything felt so unbelievably incredible that Connor wasn’t sure if he ever wanted it to end. He moved his hand down, palming his own cock, working himself closer to the edge, the knot in the pit of his stomach tightening by the second. 

“I’m so close.” Oliver groaned, his thrusts growing faster and shallower, more intent than ever to get himself off as Connor writhed beneath him, pushing back to meet each thrust as their moans reached a crescendo. There was no doubt in his mind that any neighbours within earshot would be fully aware just what he was getting up to.

Oliver pushed forwards with one final, deep thrust, falling down against Connor’s back, a mess of heavy breathing and sweaty limbs. Connor pumped his cock quickly, cum splashing haphazardly across Oliver’s bedspread, Connor collapsing into a heap underneath Oliver. He turned his body, catching Oliver’s lips in a rough, wet kiss, lips curving into a satisfied grin, giving way to a content chuckle. 

Oliver grinned, rolling away, laying back in a vain attempt to catch his breath. Now he’d definitely need to do some laundry. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing as fast as his heart, running a hand through his already mussed up hair. 

“Are you staying?” He asked with a hopeful smile, turning back towards Connor and propping himself up on his elbow. 

“Well, I guess that depends.” Connor drawled, his voice dripping with suggestion, his lips split in a playful smirk. 

“Depends on what exactly?” Oliver chuckled, knitting his eyebrows into a frown. Connor raised his eyebrows and licked his lips. 

“On whether we get to do that again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the terrible/rushed smut. It's taken far too long to write. Fingers crossed the next chapter doesn't take as long. Again any feedback is GREATLY appreciated :)


	4. Chapter 4

Connor had never experienced love before, not to his knowledge at least, but the tightness in his chest, the constant high whenever he was near Oliver and the way his heart raced whenever they exchanged so much as a look made him think that this might be it. He was in love. 

It had been nearly two months. Two months of the same guy and Connor wasn’t even close to bored, in fact every day only served to make him fall for Oliver that little bit more. 

He’d never even considered settling down before. Boyfriends had never been on the agenda. Connor was far too content with playing the field. Of course one day he’d planned to settle. When college was done and he’d passed the bar. When he was set with life then of course the thought of a boyfriend felt very appealing. A husband, maybe even a family of their own, but not right now. Yet three months shy of his 19th birthday and here he was, genuinely trying to figure out just how they might make this work with him in California, and Oliver stuck back working for his father in Michigan. 

This wasn’t for fun anymore, this was serious. 

Connor never brought his family into his private life, just another part of separating who he was in public with who he was behind closed doors, but Oliver was no longer just another guy. He was more than some cheap hookup. For the first time in his life, Connor Walsh had a boyfriend and he wanted everyone to know about it. 

He strode purposefully down the corridors of city hall. He’d stopped visiting his father in work so much. As he grew older the sheen of prestige and the feelings of pride had worn off. He’d learnt long ago that it was sometimes best to leave his father to his work. 

His relationship with his father had soured considerably in recent years, Things hadn’t quite been the same since Connor’s interests had shifted from computer games and football to cruising Humpr and picking up guys. There was nothing sinister, they’d just become two different men at two different times in their life. Connor still held a begrudging respect for his father and his commitment to his work.

He stopped at the secretary’s desk. Miriam had worked for his father for as long as he could remember. A warm, bubbly lady who he was sure had bought many Christmas and Birthday gifts for him over the years, even if his father’s forged handwriting was on the label. She looked up at him with a gasp.

“Connor!” She beamed excitedly, jumping to her feet and throwing her arms around him from across the table. “My, haven’t you grown!” She gushed.”And you’re so handsome!” She added with a giggle, patting his cheek as she gave him the once over, taking in the adult standing before her. “I’m sure you have all those girls falling at your feet at school?” 

Connor snorted to himself but nodded politely. It wasn’t exactly untrue. Connor had come to realise many years ago that he had the same effect on women as he did with men.

“Is he busy?” Connor asked, 

“You’re in luck.” She smiled.”Go right in, I’m sure he’d love to see you.” She beamed, busying herself back with her work. Connor stepped forwards, taking a deep breath before pushing the office door open and poking his head around. 

His father’s office felt far too majestic for what the job entailed. Decorated with prestige. It looked like something out of a movie. As a child, Connor had always felt extra excited to be allowed inside his fathers office. He remembered days sitting behind the desk, pretending to be in charge. Now he was older the facade had slipped somewhat.

His father sat behind his desk, writing furiously as two staffers briefed him from across the table. He looked up at the sound of the opening door, lips curving into a smile. 

“Connor!” He greeted triumphantly, leaning back in his chair. 

“I can come back if it’s a bad time?” Connor offered, lingering awkwardly in the doorway as the two staffers slowly gathered up their papers. 

“No, no, not at all. They were just leaving.” He smiled keenly, gesturing to the seats in front of him. “Come in, sit down. To what to I owe this pleasure?” He asked, reclining casually in his chair as the two interns scuttled out past Connor. The second caught Connor’s eye before looking away quickly, cheeks tinged pink. The less said about that the better. Tim or Tom or something along those lines. Connor had only needed it for one night and it certainly wasn’t worth remembering. 

He crossed the room, dropping down in an empty chair, bringing his foot onto his thigh.

“Can a son not visit his father at work?” He asked, holding his hands up, voice dripping with sarcasm. They both knew that their time spent together was nearly non-existent these days. Connor barely made any effort to spend time with his father unless he wanted something or his presence was requested.

He’d grown to like things that way. His dad had always been supportive. He’d never had an issue with his son’s sexuality even if his support wasn’t always as forthcoming as it could have been. They’d developed a don’t ask, don’t tell approach to their relationship. His dad didn’t ask, Connor didn’t tell him.things he didn’t want to hear but he knew his father cared, even if he struggled with some of the more intimate details of his son’s life choices.

“How’s school?” His father asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his desk like he meant business. His interested face.

“School finished a month ago, Dad, but I’m glad to see you’re paying attention.” Connor couldn’t resist biting back. He took a deep breath. He needed his dad on side. He bought a hand to his temple, calming himself. “School was good though.” He sighed. “Stressful, but I think I’m ready for Berkeley.”

“It’s going to be a big change.” His dad reasoned with a nostalgic smile. “You’re ready to make the big move?”

Connor nodded, fidgeting in his chair. He had an apartment lined up. His flights were booked but recent events were beginning to make him question just how this was all going to work out. He’d wanted this all his life, but right now, he wanted Oliver more.

“My little Connor is all grown up.” He teased playfully, Connor groaning loudly, bringing a hand to his face. “You know I’m proud of you, right?” His father’s demeanor became more thoughtful as he studied the young man sitting across from him. The young man that was almost a stranger. 

Connor nodded, slowly. 

“I know, Dad.” He mumbled with a slight blush. He wrung his hands together. “So how is the campaign going? Do you need to start looking for another job yet?” He asked with a playful smirk. His dad shrugged, throwing his hands up with an exasperated sigh. 

“It’s hard to tell.” He groaned. “Some days are up, other days are down. It’s all kind of neck and neck at the moment.” He pouted. “It doesn’t help that the press seem to be busting my ass at the moment.” He admitted with a sigh. “Your sister dating the son of my biggest donor, they’re scouring my expenses with a fine tooth comb, and they’re dragging up every stupid thing I did in college. If I didn’t know any better I’d say someone wants me out of office.” He leant back in his chair, “Once we’ve figured out who’s leaking this shit, I’m hoping I can get back on track.” He shook his head, rubbing his temples. “I’m glad to see you’re having some success though at least.” He forced a smile.

An uneasy silence fell between the two men. Neither quite knowing what to say to move the conversation forwards. This was what their relationship had become.

“I’ve started seeing someone.” Connor blurted out, picking awkwardly at the sleeve of his jacket, not quite knowing how else to drop it into conversation. His father’s eyes widened and he fiddled with the end of his tie. 

“Oh.” He mumbled, swallowing hard. The awkward silence returned. “Is he… nice?” Connor closed his eyes with a smirk. 

“Well I like him?” He shrugged. “His name’s Oliver and he volunteers for your campaign so I’m guessing you’d approve of him?” He muttered quickly, trying to gauge his father’s reaction.

“Sounds like he has good taste then.” His father chuckled awkwardly. “Well you kept that quiet.” He croaked, his unease plastered across his face. Connor nodded calmly. He hadn’t. Not to people that paid attention but he resisted the urge to point that out. He’d introduced Oliver to Gemma after three weeks together. She’d been suitably charmed and told him he was a keeper. They’d even had dinner with Connor’s mother a fortnight previous and it had gone better than Connor could have hoped for. He decided now wasn’t the time to point out that this was only a secret to his heavily distracted father. 

“I know, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He started carefully, clasping his fingers together. “I was thinking maybe I could bring him to that campaign event next week?” He asked cautiously, really not sure how this might go. 

His father pondered the suggestion, nodding slowly to himself. 

“Yeah, that sounds fine? Bring him along.” He smiled warmly, clearly content with the idea. “I mean, it’ll probably be pretty boring for him while you’re busy mingling but if you’re sure he won’t mind?” Connor let out an exasperated sigh. 

“No, Dad. I want to bring him as my date.” He hissed, his father’s face dropping. “I don’t want to hide away anymore.” He sighed. “I’m gay, I have a boyfriend, and I’m tired of everyone treating it like it’s some huge secret.”

“Connor…” His father’s voice was stern, his face dropping. 

“This is my last chance before I go away.”

“So you go and leave me to pick up the mess?” His dad snapped angrily, Connor was slightly taken aback by the tone. “We’ve been through this time and time again. What you get up to in private doesn’t bother me, but it needs to stay private.” He hissed. “Everything is on a knife edge right now. I’m fighting to keep my job. I’m fighting to appeal to everybody that I can and I can’t risk losing the votes. No, Connor. I won’t allow it.” He insisted firmly. 

“Because this is all about you?!” Connor yelled. “What I want doesn’t even come into it?”

“Not right now, No!” His father yelled back, his cheeks turning red. “It’s bad enough with your sister, but this is too much. I can’t take that risk.” Connor stopped, shaking his head. 

“But if it was a girl, you wouldn’t have a problem would you.” He sighed. He stood up, looking his father in the eye. “After everything I’ve done for you, after all we’ve done to support you, and you can’t do one thing for me.” He mumbled. “Why don’t you just admit you’ve never been truly comfortable with having a gay son?” His father stared back at him, clenching his jaw, unable to answer. 

Connor turned his back, crossing the room to the door. 

“Thanks for nothing Dad, yet again.” He spat, slamming the heavy door behind him as he left.


	5. Chapter 5

Connor sat back against the pillows, still quietly seething. 

“You ready to talk yet?” Oliver mumbled as he traipsed back into the bedroom, towel slung low on his hips. “I’ve never seen you look so tense after sex before.” He teased, climbing into the spare space on the sheets. He crawled closer to Connor, pressing soft kisses along his jaw. “You okay?” He whispered. 

Connor nodded, letting out a soft whine as Oliver pulled away. 

“I just argued with my dad.” He whispered back, turning towards his boyfriend. “And I realised he’s a fucking asshole.”

“And you thought sex with me would fix that?” Oliver smiled, rummaging around on the floor for his boxers, discarded somewhere in a pile of clothes.

“No. I thought sex with you would cheer me up and I was right.” He chuckled, grabbing Oliver’s wrist and pulling him back towards him, catching him in a soft kiss. The older man searched Connor’s eyes. It may have only been two months but he knew when Connor was deflecting. Connor sighed, pulling the covers tighter around himself. “Obviously sex with you doesn’t change the fact he’s an asshole.” Connor muttered. 

“I didn’t realise you two didn’t get on?” Oliver frowned, swinging his legs back into the bed, snuggling closer to Connor. The younger man shook his head. 

“It’s not like that.” He sighed. “Not exactly.” He picked at the seam of Oliver’s duvet cover. Connor studied Oliver’s inquisitive glare, looking away with a shake of the head. “It’s complicated.” He groaned. 

“Your dad is the Mayor of the city. I’d be more surprised if it wasn’t complicated.” He offered kindly. 

“I’m just tired.” He grumbled. “I’m tired of it being one rule for him and another rule for the rest of us.” Oliver sank down slowly on the bed. 

“Wanna talk about it?” He whispered sympathetically, crawling closer and propping himself up beside Connor. The younger man chuckled. This wasn’t his usual idea of pillow talk. “I’m a good listener.” Oliver winked. Connor rolled his eyes, unable to hide his smile. Oliver really could be adorable when he wanted to be.

“I wanted him to meet you.” He sighed. “I asked if I could bring you to the next campaign event.” He explained, his cheeks turning pink. He wasn’t used to being this honest. “I kind of thought we could just… go public?” He whispered. 

“You wanted to show me off to the press?” Oliver teased, earning a punch to his arm as he giggled. 

“I wanted to stop hiding.” Connor countered. “I’m sick of it being treated like some big earth shattering secret when it’s not?” He sighed. “I’m nearly 19. I’m about to leave home to start my own life across the other side of the country and I want to address it on my terms.” He licked his lips. “I don’t want people to think I’m ashamed.” 

“So why don’t you just do it?” Oliver asked bluntly. “You don’t need to wait for some flashy event to make a statement?” He questioned. “If you want to stop hiding then just don’t hide it anymore. No one ever needs to know about the other stuff?” He suggested, growing slightly excited. “You can Tweet it, or write a long heartfelt Facebook post? Like you say, do it on your terms!” He grinned so widely Connor couldn’t help but smile back at his enthusiasm. “We can do it now! What’s stopping you?” Oliver made to grab his laptop. 

“My dad is stopping me.” Connor sighed with a shake of his head. Oliver stopped, sinking back down beside Connor with an inquisitive stare. 

“I thought you said he was fine about it?” Oliver frowned, his eyebrows knitting together.

“He is!” Connor insisted, although deep down he still somewhat doubted that from time to time. “Like I said, it’s complicated.” He swallowed hard, studying Oliver’s face, his eyes urging him to continue. “My dad has never told me he disproves.” Connor mumbled. “He’s always been loving and supportive and he’s never tried to stop me being who I am.” He wet his lips, pulling his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms defensively around them. “He just doesn’t want other people to know.” 

Oliver frowned, fidgeting closer to Connor. 

“But why?” His eyebrows knitted together. “Supportive people don’t tend to do that?” 

“I think he thinks he is being supportive.” Connor muttered. “He’s old-fashioned.” he shook his head and threw his hands up. “I used to think he was doing it to protect me.” He cocked his head to the side. “There’s nasty people out there, Connor. They say nasty things and they don’t care who they hurt.” He shook his head again. “I used to think he was trying to protect me from public opinion. Trying to protect me from unwanted attention, but now…” He tailed off with a frustrated groan. “Now I realise he’s just protecting his own best interests. He’s not trying to protect me from the prejudiced assholes, he’s just trying to get their votes.”

Oliver reached out, placing his hand reassuringly on Connor’s knee. The younger man covered it with his own, threading their fingers together.

“So you’re just going to take that? Taking the back seat for the sake of his job?” Oliver asked softly. Connor couldn’t resist a smirk. 

“That’s all my family has ever done.” His lips curved into a sardonic grin. “You only see the good stuff. Trust me, I love my Dad, but on the scale of things we’ve helped cover for him, this barely even registers.” He muttered cryptically, stretching his legs out with a long sigh. He threw the covers back and scrambled for his boxers which had come to land at the foot of the bed. “It’s fine.” He mumbled. “I’ll be fine.” He sighed as he slowly fumbled his way into his pants Oliver sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Wait, what other things?” He spluttered curiously, his mind suddenly racing with ideas, each more sinister than the last. Just how bad was this guy? “You can’t say something like that and leave me hanging?” Oliver pouted, trying to dig deeper. Connor straightened up, meeting Oliver’s stare face on. He’d trusted him with this much, one more thing wasn’t going to make that much difference.

“’Kay.” Connor mumbled, pulling his t-shirt over his head and dropping into the space beside Oliver. “But no one can know I told you this.” He insisted. “I’m serious, Ollie.” He whispered, his voice hoarse yet serious. Oliver nodded, his fingers tightening on the edge of the mattress. 

“God, now you’re scaring me.” He chuckled, not sure he was going to like what he was about to hear. “Are you about to tell me the guy I’m working for is a murderer?” He teased. “Connections to the mafia? Is he fiddling the taxes?” He rambled, trying to break the tension. 

“He had an affair.” Connor blurted out, smirking at Oliver’s overactive imagination. “Sorry to disappoint you.” Oliver nodded. 

“Well that’s not that bad is it?” He asked softly. Connor’s head snapped around, eyebrow cocked. “I mean, name me a politician who hasn’t.”

“Funnily enough that wasn’t much comfort for my mum.” He shot back sharply, all the feelings and emotions flooding back at the mere thought of the incident. He’s become fiercely protective of his mother ever since. She didn’t deserve what his father had put her through, she deserved so much better. He took a deep breath. “We found out three years ago.” He mumbled, looking away. “It had been going on for a while.” He stared down at his hands, Oliver hanging off his every word. “He used to tell us he was working late, or had meetings. Important work stuff. Turns out he was screwing one of his interns instead.” He shook his head sadly. 

Oliver moved his hand across slowly, covering Connor’s and threading their fingers together. Connor’s bravado was gone. No longer a cocky young man, instead just a boy, scarred by what had happened to him, ruined by lies from people he’d trusted.

“I’m sorry.” Oliver whispered, cupping Connor’s cheek in his hand, pulling him to face him. “I… didn’t mean to make a joke of it.” He hummed, rubbing his thumb across the younger man’s cheek, Connor melted into the caress, turning to kiss Oliver’s palm. 

“You didn’t know.” He whispered back, lips turning into a pout. “I used to admire him.” He muttered. “I never thought he’d do anything like that. Not to my mum, not after everything she’s put up with.” He paused. “Everything we’ve all put up with.” 

“It must suck.” Oliver offered. “Family taking second place.” Connor snorted.

“That’s an understatement.” He retorted, staring Oliver square in the eye, raking a hand through his hair. “I was ten when my Dad first got elected.” He mumbled. “I barely remember things any other way. If he wins this time, I’ll be 22 when he leaves office and it’ll be too late anyway.” He shrugged heavily, pulling himself to his feet. “I guess family life isn’t exciting enough for some people.” He stretched his arms out, grabbing his trousers and sliding them back on. “Who knows what possessed him to have a second one.” 

“Well I’m glad he did.” Oliver stood with a lusty smirk. “Especially one with a hot ass like yours.” He chuckled, pulling Connor close and kissing him deeply, tongue licking inside. The younger man wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck, kissing back hungrily before pulling back with a chuckle. 

“I didn’t mean second child.” He rasped, eyes sparkling with a certain smugness. “I meant second family.”

Oliver pulled away, his eyes narrowing in confusion. 

“What?” He stuttered, shocked at the revelation. 

“He got her pregnant.” Connor admitted nonchalantly. “I have a sister.” He shrugged. “Half sister.” He corrected. “At least I’m not the only child he tries to keep in the closet.” He chuckled to himself, grabbing for his shirt. 

“Wait, and nobody knows?” Oliver asked in disbelief. “How do you hide something like that!” Connor swallowed, holding his t-shirt in his hands, staring down at it blankly. 

“We covered it up?” He mumbled. “My dad made it go away. Paid her off and they moved to Seattle, as far away as possible. New job, new house, new life. My dad keeps his job and my mum puts a brave face on everything and pretends it isn’t killing her inside.” He muttered. “People know, but only a select few. It’s a need to know basis.” He threw his hands up. “All this fuss just to protect his stupid reputation and keep him in this stupid job.” He licked his lips. “And now you know too.” He sighed, shrugging quickly. “You know all my deepest, darkest secrets.” He grinned, pulling his shirt over his head and checking his phone. “I should go.” He mumbled, pushing his phone into his pocket and pressing a chaste kiss to Oliver’s temple as the other man digested the barrage of information he’d just received. “I’ll see you later.” He whispered, walking away as Oliver sat in subdued shock.

Maybe he’d pushed it too far, Connor began to panic as he walked towards the door. He’d given Oliver too much information and now he was sure he’d scared him off with the complexities of his fucked up family life. Maybe it was too much.

“Connor, wait!” Oliver jumped up, grabbing the younger man by the wrist and pulling him back. He spun to face him, studying Oliver’s face with an inquisitive smile. The older man caressed his cheek softly. “You seem a little tense again.” He mumbled softly, Connor’s lips cracking into a grin. “You should let me help you with that.” He winked, trying shameless to relax his boyfriend. Connor leant in, pressing their lips together enthusiastically. 

“Well that does sound too tempting to pass up on.” He giggled, allowing Oliver to easily pull him back towards the bed.


	6. Chapter 6

Oliver let out a deep sigh as a warm summer breeze blew past, his exposed nipples standing to attention as he leant against the balustrade, taking in the view. He felt relaxed. More relaxed than he’d been in a long time. Being surrounded by the peaceful water was doing wonders for his inner calm.

Holidays had never been like this when he was a child. Infact, when he was a child, he was lucky to get a chance to go on any holiday at all. Sharing a 4 man tent with his brother, sister and four cousins was as much luxury as he ever got to experience. Lake houses in upstate New York had never been an option. 

“I thought you’d abandoned me.” Connor’s voice cut through the peace. Oliver swung around, smiling as the younger man sauntered towards him, dressed in boxers and a hoody. He moved close, lips curved into a satisfied grin as he stole a chaste kiss. “You okay?” He asked softly. Oliver nodded, turning back to his view.

“This place is incredible.” He smirked. “I should have guessed a family like yours had more than one house.” He teased. Connor nodded, taking up the space beside the older man. “How exactly did you get your dad to agree to let us come up here alone?” The younger man chuckled. 

“He doesn’t know.” He whispered, his eyes sparkling deviously. “We have my mum to thank for this.” He explained, suddenly becoming slightly coy, not wanting the other man too know just how much effort he’d put into putting this together. Oliver grinned. “Did you sleep well?” Connor asked casually. 

“I slept great.” Oliver nodded. “Until some weirdo started grinding against my ass at 2am.” He chuckled, throwing his boyfriend a pointed look. 

“Oh because, you weren’t grinding back at all were you?” Connor gasped, affronted. 

“No idea what you mean?” Oliver winked, the younger man swooping in and bringing their lips together in another soft kiss. Oliver slid an arm around Connor’s waist, pulling him into his side gently, pressing another kiss to his temple. “So what’s the plan for today?” He asked. “I’m starting to think we should probably go out and do something. Two days in bed is probably too much and we can’t really blame the travelling today.” 

“Yeah, but bed is fun?” Connor grinned with a dirty chuckle. Oliver rolled his eyes. 

“You have a one track mind.” He tutted. “You’re going to really struggle at college when you have to think about more than getting laid.” He teased, making back towards the house. He needed coffee. Something to give him a pick me up before they attempted to do anything consequential for the day.

“I was thinking we could go for a hike?” Connor suggested, following behind into the mess of the bedroom. Clothes strewn across the floor, falling out of open luggage. The sheets crumpled on the bed, Connor sinking back down onto them, watching as Oliver sifted through his bag for something to wear. “We can get out, see the sights. There’s some amazing waterfalls and it will give us a chance to talk?” He shrugged. Oliver spun around. 

“You want to talk? That sounds ominous.” He teased, pulling a white t-shirt over his head. “Was this your plan? Bring me to this place to let me down gently?” He chuckled. 

“No!” Connor retorted, “I just… we have some things to discuss and…” Oliver smirked, shaking his head. 

“I’m joking, Connor.” He smiled. “We can talk about whatever you want?” He shrugged, pulling a pair of jeans from his case and holding them up for size. “Is there any chance of breakfast before this hike?” He winked. Connor stood up, bringing his body close to Oliver’s, hands gripping onto his hips. 

“I know a great place that does incredible eggs. You can treat me.” He chuckled, nibbling gently on his boyfriend’s earlobe. “Pay me back for all the incredible sex I’ve been giving you.” He chuckled, pulling back and delving into his own case. 

“I didn’t realise you were that kind of date.” Oliver giggled, recoiling as Connor’s hand struck his arm.

* * *

“Come on, Connor!” Oliver grinned, jogging ahead. “For someone with so much stamina in other departments, it clearly doesn’t transfer to outdoor activities.” He teased, as Connor attempted to keep up. 

The view was incredible, the fresh air felt somewhat invigorating after two days cooped up indoors, but none of that hid the fact that Connor was struggling. 

“You’re 18, babe!” Oliver chuckled. “You should be running rings around me, not the other way round.” 

“I think I ate too much breakfast.” Connor groaned, holding his stomach as he finally reached Oliver’s side. “You sabotaged me.” He grumbled, holding his side, waiting for his stitch to subside. 

“You sabotaged yourself!” Oliver shot back with a smile. “I told you not to have those extra pancakes.” He stepped forward, sliding his hand through Connor’s. “Come on, let me take care of you.” He grinned with a twinkle in his eye. “We’re not going back until you show me these waterfalls anyway.” He tugged Connor forwards, tucking him into his side. 

Their palms clutched each others, Connor growing accustomed to the feel of Oliver’s hand trapped against his own. He could definitely get used to this. Expressing themselves so simply in public felt so freeing somehow, even if there was no one else around to see it. 

The sun beat down on their skin as they followed the trail, side by side as they hiked around the lake edge. 

“You’re so lucky.” Oliver smiled, “I’d have killed to have somewhere like this to come when I was a kid.” He muttered longingly. 

“It’s better when you have someone special to share it with.” Connor whispered coyly, Oliver grinning as he caught the admission. It was true. As a child this had always been their family getaway. The two weeks that he felt his father was truly his. He had good memories of this place. Learning to swim, kayaking with Gemma on the lake, having *that* conversation with his mother. Yet all of that seemed to pale in comparison to what he was feeling now he was here with Oliver. 

“Holy shit!” Oliver’s voice gasped, his hand dropping from Connor’s grip as they rounded the corned. Connor looked up, the view of the waterfall was incredible, something he’d seen so many times before, but Oliver’s sheer awestruck expression brought a whole new meaning to it. He wanted more of this. More firsts, more experiences, more incredible views. They could have all this in California. Oliver grinned, stumbling towards the white water, as it cascaded down the cliff face in front of them into a deep blue lagoon below. “This view is to die for.” He chuckled. 

“Oh yeah?” Connor smirked, moving closer to the other man. “Mine’s better.” He winked, drinking in the sight of the older man in front of him. Oliver turned, pulling Connor in close, wrapping an arm around the younger man’s shoulders, a soft kiss pressed to the side of his head. 

Everything in this moment felt perfect, and Connor could feel himself falling deeper by the second. Sure, he was young, but he’d been with enough people to know this was different. 

“So what was this talk you wanted to have?” Oliver asked, pulling Connor with him, settling down on a rock in a small clearing, the water beating down behind them. He stared at Connor with a glint in his eye. “If you’re going to break up with me then I think I’d rather you do it here than anywhere else.” He grinned, picking at his shoelace. Connor shook his head, nervously wringing his hands together. 

“I want you to come with me.” He whispered. “To California.” Oliver’s face contorted and Connor’s heart immediately sank. “I know it’s quick.” He garbled, holding his hands up defensively, suddenly feeling like a ridiculous love struck teenager, in over his head. “It seems crazy because it’s only been a few months but… I think we can make it work?” He stared hopefully. 

“Connor…” Oliver groaned, closing his eyes. Connor hated that expression. Almost like he was being pitied. 

“No, hear me out.” Connor pleaded. “I have my own place set up and ready to go. We can go together, take things slowly” He sighed. “I just don’t want to lose what you and me have because…” He stopped, swallowing heavily. “Because you’re too fucking special to say goodbye to.” He whispered.

Oliver stared at Connor for a beat before closing his eyes with an exasperated groan. 

“This is so unfair.” He whined softly, as Connor picked at the hem of his shorts. Oliver nibbled his bottom lip, rubbing at his forehead. “You know that’s a crazy idea, right?” He whispered. 

Connor nodded sadly, still holding onto a glimmer of hope. 

“It’s crazy but it doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work?” He smiled hopefully, hating just how desperate and clingy he was coming off right now. He was Connor Walsh, people chased him, not the other way round, but something about Oliver made him drop his guard. He wasn’t so scared of being vulnerable around him, in fact he was kind of embracing it. Opening up to someone wasn’t as scary as he thought it would be. 

Oliver tutted to himself, looking across the view, rather than at Connor, eyes masked by his sunglasses so the younger man couldn’t get a proper read on what he was thinking. 

“I just think we need to be realistic.” He shrugged, his voice low and meek. “You’re 18 and this…” He tailed off. “I might not be who you want this time next year.” Connor frowned, this felt out of left field. Up until now everything between them had seemed pretty solid. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” He pouted. 

“You’re going to college, Connor. Can you honestly say you’re not going to grow tired of having a boyfriend tying you down? You of all people.” Oliver hissed with a cynically raised eyebrow. Connor recoiled momentarily, slightly hurt by the implication of the last sentence. No, obviously he’d planned to go to college and play the field, but he wasn’t averse to trying something new, and besides, the meaningless sex felt strangely unappealing when compared to what he could have with Oliver. 

Oliver stared at the younger man, knowing he’d maybe been too harsh, his features softening. 

“Look, I’m flattered.” He whispered. “Honestly, I am, and if things were different then I’d seriously consider it but…” He tailed off, lifting his glasses onto his head, taking Connor’s hand and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Maybe we should see how we feel in six months.” He suggested quietly. 

Connor knew when he was being let down gently, and he couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt, but deep down he knew Oliver was speaking some sense. He bit his bottom lip gently, scooting closer, curling himself loosely into Oliver’s side with a disappointed nod. 

“I’ll wait for you.” He whispered, eliciting a chuckle from the older man. 

“We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god so this has been a while, but while I'm mulling over a couple of things with Rapture I thought I might add a bit more to this cos I haven't forgotten about it. I know it's kinda random and filler but.... yeah... it's something haha. Enjoy.


	7. Chapter 7

Connor was used to the Walsh house being a hive of activity, but even he was confused by the hubbub drifting through the house as he wheeled his suitcase through the door at 11:30pm, Monday night. 

It had been an awful day. Long car journey, Oliver’s questionable driving, not to mention the somewhat tense atmosphere in the car between the two of them. He wasn’t mad at Oliver, he understood completely, but the brat inside of him couldn’t help but be pissed that he wasn’t getting what he wanted. Goddamn Oliver and his common sense. 

He heard raised voices from another room and peered, trying to place their owners. His father often brought his work home with him but this sounded like a larger gathering than usual. Terse voices and tense, almost angry shouts, Connor wasn’t going to miss the stress when he was on the other side of the country that was for sure. 

He rolled his case slowly towards the stairs, stuffing his keys in his back pocket, with a yawn. He needed sleep, or his bed at the very least. Anything that wasn’t Oliver’s hard and uncomfortable passenger seat. 

“Connor?” The anxious tone in Gemma’s voice made his head snap up immediately and his heart begin to pound nervously in his chest. The tone told him all he needed to know. He’d heard that tone all too many times before. That dark, grave tone that let him know he’d fucked up, although right now he was oblivious as to how.

Her appearance was equally as alarming. She stood halfway down the stairs, eyes red rimmed and tired and Connor knew he wasn’t going to like what was coming next.

“Gem?” He croaked, stepping forwards, going to meet her half way, but she stepped back with a quick sniff. 

“What did you do, Connor?” She whispered quietly with a gentle sniff. 

He frowned, his heart sinking in his chest as she spoke, his mind racing for what exactly he could have done to evoke this kind of reaction, although he was coming up blank. 

“I…” His voice evaded him as he stuttered uncomfortably, no idea where to even start. 

“How could you do this to mum?” Gemma hissed, and that was when Connor knew this was bad. He went to question, but instead he was interrupted by the slam of a door and the unmistakable yell of his father.

“CONNOR!” His voice echoed off the walls and Gemma visibly cowered. He stared at his sister, eyes pleading for just one hint as to what this was about but it wasn’t forthcoming, instead she shrugged, turning and ascending the stairs, leaving him to whatever shitstorm he was about to walk into the center of. 

Connor shuffled down the corridor, heart pounding in his chest as he entered the dining room. His clothes were disheveled, shirt half untucked, tie strewn across the table. Papers and laptops littered every space in sight, the room crowded with a large selection of people, all as visibly on edge as his father. The entire room stared at him as he entered, the tension palpable. 

His father paced back and forth, raking a hand through his hair uneasily. 

“Everyone out.” He hissed to the collected witnesses, locking his eyes on Connor’s, an unwavering stare. “Out. Now. I need to talk to my son.” He snapped, the room emptying with an unnerving speed, the last person closing the door leaving the two men in an awkward silence.

His father paced some more, exuding an anger Connor hadn’t seen for some time from him. 

“Sit down.” He muttered, jabbing a finger to a chair at the opposite end of the dining table. Connor knew the time to ask questions and this wasn’t one of them. He sat slowly, staring up at his father’s tired agitated face. He paused, leaning on the end of the table, palms pressing so hard to the wood Connor was sure the table might flip. “How was your trip?” His dad spat, lips pulling into a vicious smile.

Connor shrugged. Was this it? This was the big catastrophe? Taking his boyfriend away for a trip was suddenly a big crime. Now he couldn’t WAIT to escape to California if it took that little for his father to get this riled. 

“It was fine?” He mumbled back in response. He could play this cool. His dad bit his bottom lip with a nod as he picked up the tablet sitting on the table in front of him. He jabbed at the screen in silence. 

“And was it more or less fun than ruining EVERYTHING I’ve worked for for the past twelve years?” He spat, throwing the tablet down in front of Connor, a newspaper headline staring back at him from the screen, his blood running cold as he read the words. 

" _ **Mayor Walsh in Love Child Scandal!**_ "

Connor’s eyes scoured the page, his family’s deepest secrets splashed across the page for everyone to see. The affair, the baby, the cover up, all there in 12pt print. Every last sordid detail in print for anyone to read and pass judgement on. 

“Why did you do it, Connor.” His dad trembled, leaning on the back of the chair he was sitting on. “Did they pay you? Or offer you something.” Connor whipped round, suddenly all of this making some kind of horrible sense. 

“I didn’t!” He shot back, his heart pounding in his chest. Sure they’d never fully seen eye to eye, but the fact his father thought he was capable of this brought him back down to earth with a bump. 

“Don’t lie to me, Connor!” His dad yelled angrily, slamming his hand on the table top. “Is this some game to you?!” He snapped. “Is this some petty revenge because you didn’t get your own way?” He asked. “I can’t even begin to process what would make you think any of this was a good idea.” He straightened up, pacing away from his son.

“I didn’t do ANY of this.” Connor snapped. “You think because we argued I’d throw the entire family under the bus?” He yelped, his frustration growing by the second. How could any of his family think he’d do this. 

“I don’t know what to think, Connor.” He father sighed. “I know I haven’t been the best father to you or Gemma.” He whispered. “But I’ve always tried to give you what you want and what you need. I’ve tried to make your life as easy and as comfortable as you could hope for.” He swallowed hard, pulling a chair out and dropping himself down on it heavily. “I know we haven’t seen eye to eye, I know I haven’t always been there for you, but I’ve tried so hard to protect you and this is how you repay me?”

“No, Dad.” Connor sighed. “Our problem is you don’t listen to me, like you’re not listening when I tell you I didn’t do this.” He snapped, leaning forwards in his chair, wetting his lips. “Yes, you’ve been a terrible father at times.” He hissed. “But unlike you, I know the meaning of family and I wouldn’t do that to the people I love.” He spat, his father glancing away. 

“Oh come on, Connor, can you honestly say you’ve never considered hanging me out to dry?” Connor recoiled, leaning back in his chair. That was one accusation he couldn’t deny. Of course he’d considered it on more than one occasion, he’d spent far too long thinking of all the ways he could bring his father down, punish him for the terrible things he’d done, but none of them felt satisfying when he considered who else could get hurt in the crossfire.

“I haven’t said anything for all these years, you really think I would spill now, when I’m finally getting away?” He hissed. “I’m telling you, you have the wrong person.” He choked out each word, biting back his rage. “It could be anybody, Dad, why don’t you ask them?”

“I have!” His dad snapped. “We’ve turned the whole damn office upside down trying to find the person leaking this shit about me and we’ve come up blank, but only a select few people know about this. You’re the only one with nothing to lose.” He paused. “Is this payback because I wouldn’t let you go public with your boyfriend?” He questioned sadly. 

“No!” Connor sighed, bringing his hands to his face, seemingly making no headway in pleading his innocence. 

And then it hit him, and everything fell into place, and made him feel sick to his stomach at the same time. 

“Shit…” He hissed under his breath, pushing the chair back, sending it scraping along the floor. His dad looked up with a frown, pushing himself up too, making to follow. 

“Connor?” He yelped. “Connor, don’t walk away from me!” He shouted after him. 

“I’ll be back.” He muttered quickly over his shoulder, quickening his pace. He needed to settle his fears, or prove himself wrong. 

None of it made sense, yet it felt like the only answer and Connor had never wanted to be more mistaken in his life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's been forever. Yes, I'm a terrible person. No, I'm still not entirely happy with this. Urgh I'm so sorry guys, writers block has been kicking my ass hard but here's SOMETHING finally, I'm so sorry for keeping everyone waiting.

Connor hammered impatiently on the apartment door, tapping his foot as he waited for some sign of occupancy from within, not that he needed a sign, he knew damn well Oliver was home, this was avoidance.

“Oliver!” He hissed, peering aimlessly through the peep hole, wishing by some miracle it would work in reverse and show him inside. “Oliver, I know you’re in there.” He snapped, not caring that he was disturbing the neighbours. By this point they’d probably heard worse. 

He heard rumblings from behind the door, the sound of the other man making his way over, preparing himself no doubt for the ensuing onslaught. Connor drummed his fingertips against the doorframe with a heavy sigh, pouting his lips as the door pulled open and Oliver stared back at him, a slightly dazed expression on his face.

“Did you miss me that much?” He mumbled with a sleepy yawn, standing back, not even attempting to stop Connor from entering. 

“You know why I’m here, Oliver don’t even try and be cute with me.” He snapped angrily, thrusting his phone in the older man’s face. “Did they pay you well?” He yelled, walking away, not even able to look Oliver in the eye. “What does that sort of story buy you?” He raged. “A car? A house?” He threw his hands up “Fuck, Ollie, I hope it was worth it.”

Oliver stared down at the phone, studying the information, taking it in and digesting it. He remained unnervingly calm, almost serene as he processed just what was happening. He pressed his lips together, placing the phone gently on the coffee table, pushing his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. 

“I wanted to tell you...” He whispered. 

“Oh, but you were scared I might not take it well?” Connor chuckled. “Were you worried I might not be entirely onboard with you selling me and my family out to the highest bidder?” He spat, throwing his hands up.

“That’s not what happened.” Oliver argued. “Not exactly.”

“Then tell me what did.” Connor seethed, pressing his weight onto the back of the couch expectantly. Silence filled the room as both men stood, neither sure of how to make their next move.

Oliver stared at the younger man silently, wetting his lips, folding his arms across himself before unfolding them almost immediately. 

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” He muttered.

“No shit.” Connor cut in angrily. 

“You have to understand, I did this for you.” Oliver pleaded, growing more upset by the second. Connor shook his head. 

“How is any of this for my benefit.” He snapped. Oliver stood, lacing his fingers together awkwardly, trembling from the scrutiny. The walls were crashing down and whatever this thing had been, it was becoming clearer and clearer that there had been an ulterior motive all along. 

“I work for the newspaper.” Oliver croaked, never looking up from his hands. Connor’s eyes widened, certain things slowly falling into place. This man, the man he’d shared so much of himself with, had been out to get him from the start. 

“You’re a journalist?” Connor hissed. Oliver shook his head quickly. 

“No, I... I work for the IT department.” He mumbled. “The editor wanted someone no one would recognise and... he thought someone would sniff out one of the writers far too quickly.” He explained, the words hanging heavy in the air. Connor stared blankly, the scale of deception slowly dawning on him. He sunk against the back of the couch as he began to realise it might have all been a lie. "They offered me a raise, a promotion if it all worked out, but I never knew it would go this far." Oliver mumbled, eyes gazing at the floor as the words tumbled from his lips, pace quickening as he fought to exonerate himself. "I thought this would just be me hacking some files and digging some dirt on your dad," He paused, finally looking up unsurely. "I never expected to meet you."

Connor looked away, shaking his head with a low groan 

"Jesus Christ," He whispered, bowing his head. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He added with a sharp hiss, walking towards the window, staring out at the dark night sky. "So everything between us was a lie?"

"No..." Oliver started.

"Did you come up to me that night because you wanted to or because someone else told you to?" Connor spat angrily, spinning back around. Oliver swallowed with a shake of the head.

"They told me to get to know you. " The words left Oliver's lips as a mere whisper. "But everything else between us was completely real." He insisted, stepping forwards. "You don't understand, I tried to protect you."

"Oh, so now I'm supposed to be grateful to you? You sold out my family, how is any of that for my benefit?" Connor snapped sarcastically, pacing back and forth, clearly agitated.

"They wanted me to sell you out." Oliver argued. "They found out how close we'd gotten and decided that outing you was a better story." He whined, making to step closer but thinking better of it. "I tried to leave but they had all they needed. The only choice I had was to give them something better so I told them the story about your dad. I just wanted them to leave you alone." He insisted.

"Bullshit." Connor retorted. "I bet you couldn't wait to reap the benefits as soon as I told you." He rubbed at his face with a groan of frustration. 

"That's not true." Oliver pleaded. 

"I told you I didn't care. I told you I wanted to be out." Connor stared pointedly at Oliver with a sniff. 

"This wasn't going to be on your terms, Connor, they wanted to ruin you. They wanted to ruin your dad too. This wasn't some bomb you could sacrifice yourself on top of, this was about them taking down everyone until they had what they wanted." Oliver stared back, nibbling delicately on his bottom lip. 

A silence fell between them, both men stood in a stand off, neither wanting to admit defeat. Connor rubbed at his face.

"I would have handled it." He whispered, trundling towards the couch, dropping down heavily.

"Oh my god, Connor, you're so fucking naive!" Oliver snapped, taking the younger man by surprise at the sudden outburst. "We're not talking about some fairytale coming out story where everyone congratulates you on how brave you've been. We're talking about people wanting to shame you to sell newspapers. Sordid revelations, painting you as a slut..." He tailed off again. "You've been texting my work number." He admitted meekly. "All the pictures and the messages, they wanted to use it all."

Connor stared at the older man blankly, everything falling into place. The web unravelled and knowing he was caught in the middle made him feel sick to his stomach. Only 24 hours earlier he felt like they had a future, and now it lay in tatters, destroyed, yet another victim of his father's position. Connor leant forwards, bringing his hands to his face.

"This is why I don't trust people." He mumbled into his hands. "I thought you were different... my god, I loved you, Oliver." He sighed. 

Oliver stared at him, the younger man looked tired and broken and it broke Oliver's heart to know he was the cause. In that moment all he wanted was for circumstances to be different. He wanted to fix it, but he was at a loss as to how.

"I never meant to hurt you."

"And yet you did." Connor snapped back with pure venom. He stood up slowly. "I thought you were the answer." He mumbled. "I thought you were the one who was going to make everything normal in my life. I trusted you with everything I had and the whole time you were working against me, laughing at me behind my back." 

"No!" Oliver started but Connor cut him off. 

"I don't even know if my family will speak to me again." He hissed. "All of them think I did this, and the worst thing is I feel like I did." He swallowed hard "For years, all I wanted was to bring my dad down. I used to fantasise about being the one to do it because I thought it might feel like retribution, but it doesnt. I just feel like the asshole son who let his family down once again."

"I'll talk to them." Oliver offered, "Explain that it was me. I don't care, Connor, I'll do whatever you need to make this right again." Connor's face contorted into a smirk, a sad shake of the head following.

"Now who's being naive?" He tutted, walking to the door, ready to show himself out. "I don't want you near me or my family ever again." He spat, pulling the door open. "I hope the money was fucking worth it." He added, slamming the door with gusto, leaving the walls vibrating in his wake, grateful for the dark night. At least that way no one would see the tears cascading uncontrollably down his cheeks.

**Author's Note:**

> This is something of a work in progress so it may not be updated quickly but it felt topical in the current climate :)


End file.
